


Today You Found the Sun

by makichan



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: College AU, M/M, Relationship Development, everyone drinking is of age, musician!midorima, rating might go up in later chapters but we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makichan/pseuds/makichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He’s handsome, Takao can’t help but notice.  And tall.  It’s hard to tell just how tall he is while both of them are sitting, but his arms are long and slender and Takao of course thinks about what it would be like to play basketball with him."</p><p>Takao finds someone interesting in an unlikely place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today You Found the Sun

It’s not hard to get Takao to go to a new bar, the promise of cheap booze doing far more to entice him than the vague mention of there being live music. He’s told it’s jazz, which doesn’t do much for him. That sort of music seems old, or at least not something a hip college kid would listen to, so he doesn’t. His life has been fine without it thus far. And, really, as long as there is plentiful and inexpensive alcohol, the bar can play whatever they want. Most sounds would be drowned out by idle chatter anyways, not to mention the rush of liquor that would distract more than alert.

Plus, if three senpai from the basketball club are gracious enough to invite him out to the bar with them, he’s certainly not going to refuse.

“There’s a singer there who’s rather cute,” Miyaji tells him on the careful walk over the ice that had frozen to all the streets and sidewalks. “Plus she can sing.” His love of idols is unmentioned, though the insinuation weighs heavy in the air.

“Just for you,” Takao laughs, opening the door for the other three like a good kouhai would.

Warmth greets them as they enter the bar, thawing out their extremities and relaxing the tension that had gathered under their skin in the cold. Before Takao gets a chance to listen to the allegedly wonderful singer Miyaji mentioned, a waitress comes towards them, ushers them to their seats.

They’re sat right of the center of the small stage, Ootsubo and Kimura with their backs to it. Once their waitress has taken their drink orders and has moved out of his line of sight, Takao immediately finds the singer, who is dressed surprisingly casual for a performance. He would have guessed for something a little more dressy, but then nobody had asked for his opinion, nor would he have given it to them. Basketball was his current area of expertise. Jazz and how to dress for a performance? Not so much.

That aside, she is rather cute. Shiny dark chestnut hair that’s pulled into a cute hairstyle-- a bun he thinks it’s called-- and a cute smile, pink lips and bright eyes. Very feminine. Very adorable. A lyrical voice, husky and sensual and it cuts through the chatter, comes out over the sounds of the piano and bass. There’s nothing that Takao dislikes about her, honestly.

He’s just not particularly interested.

“You should ask her out, Miyaji-senpai! Look, she’s looking over here!” Takao is about to point and wave at her but one look from Miyaji that instantly leaves that idea and any other jokes dead in Takao’s mind. “Kidding! I was kidding! I was just thinking since you like idols, that she’s right up your alley!” He’s shrinking back into his chair now, glancing sideways to Ootsubo and Kimura who offer absolutely no help at all, the bastards.

Miyaji sticks a finger in his face and begins telling him off, but when Takao sees the mirth behind his eyes, he can’t help but laugh. That, of course, is met with more yelling and finally Ootsubo steps in to hush him up. The corners of his lips are pulled into a smile, though just barely, and Miyaji’s lips end up following suit. “You have some nerve, Takao,” he hisses, but there’s not enough malice behind it to make Takao concerned again.

“But you knew that,” he points out, cheeky grin fixed in place. The band plays a final chord, and there’s a gentle wave of applause that flows through the audience, eventually reaching Takao’s group. The instrumentalists nod towards the audience slightly, the pianist turns around with a sullen face before a ghost of a smile pulls at his lips and he adjusts his glasses.

He’s handsome, Takao can’t help but notice. And tall. It’s hard to tell just how tall he is while both of them are sitting, but his arms are long and slender and Takao of course thinks about what it would be like to play basketball with him.

The pianist seems to scan the crowd awkwardly, like he’s been coached to do so and does it so begrudgingly it’s almost laughable. He lands on Takao, who gives him a grin and a wave because, why not? He receives a further grimace while the pianist turns back to the piano, seeming to draw further into the crisp white shirt that sat so primly on his body. No looks were sent back Takao’s way as he had hoped before the music started up again-- he would have liked to take a better look at the pianist’s face, memorize the sharp angle of his cheeks and look closer at the thin line of his lips.

“You know him?” Miyaji asks, sending a glance between the two.

Takao laughs and shakes his head. “Not at all. He just looked this way and looked grumpy, so I thought I’d try to liven up his evening!”

“So flippant,” Ootsubo huffs under his breath, taking a sip of his beer.

“You should speak up senpai! I can’t hear your praises of me if you mumble.” Ootsubo gives a vague nod of acknowledgement, something to let Takao know that, yes, he was heard and his comments were very duly noted. “So, Kimura-senpai, how is the physical therapy department? Learning lots of new tips on how to get buff?”

Kimura gives a little shrug, like he’d rather go back to talking about something else than his personal endeavors. “It’s fine. Lots of anatomy practice. The cadaver lab is interesting, but really weird.”

Miyaji shudders violently. “Don’t talk about that stuff. It’s disgusting,” he spits, immediately regretting his decision to admit one of his dislikes in front of Takao, who has likely already filed the tidbit away for the future.

(He has.)

\--

Takao practically leaps from his seat when he sees the person that he’s been boring holes into all night get up from the piano, nod to the person replacing him for the time being, and walk towards a small table to the side of the stage. “Be right back!” he chirps, all smirks and winks. Nobody at the table says anything, because it’s not like they’re going to stop Takao once he sets his mind to something. Even if that happens to be another person he’s decided to latch onto, his taking to the pianist as capricious and sudden as ever.

He slinks his way past the crowd that had settled in the restaurant, manages to scoot up to the seat next to the piano player. “Mind if I sit?”

“I’m not saving it.”

So that’s a yes!

It’s a plush round seat that Takao has the urge to spin around on, thanks to the couple beers he’s had, but sitting normally will also be just fine for now. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I don’t know you and I don’t drink while I’m playing. No.” His attention turns to the waitress he’d managed to wave over. “Can I just have a glass of water?” She nods and bows and by the time the exchange is over, the chatty stranger hasn’t left.

“Ah, but you aren’t playing right now! You seem to have a bit of a break.” Takao’s grin is spreading across his face, the apples of his cheeks warm and red. A friendly hand reaches out and pats the pianist’s shoulder. The body under his palm stiffens but Takao barely knows how to keep out of other people’s personal space when he’s sober-- much less when he’s tipsy-- so he ignores the sigh of irritation that he hears. “What’s your name?”

The pianist turns to him, lips parted in frustration and shrugs off Takao’s hand in a rough motion. “Why are you bothering me?”

For some reason, the comment strikes Takao as funny, his giggles starting soft then crescendoing until he’s outright laughing. “I bother everyone!” he manages after a few seconds. “Not really. I’m just friendly. You could learn a thing about that, Mr. Piano Man.”

“Don’t call me that. If you must know, my name is Midorima Shintarou.” Anger blots Midorima’s face, makes him huff quietly every few minutes.

“So, Shin-chan, wh--”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Somewhere in the recesses of him mind, Midorima wonders why he just hasn’t walked away yet.

“Oh, that’s your nickname! I’ve decided.” A look of complete disgust crosses Midorima’s features. They stay even as the waitress sets down the water and knits her brows in confusion at the sight.

“Absolutely not.”

“Yes, anyways, what will you have to drink?”

Midorima brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes before covering his face with his hands entirely.

Takao gasps with delight. “Oh, Shin-chan, are you shy about me buying you a drink?”

Midorima wets his lips with his tongue and, after a few moments, finally brings his hands away from his face. “I am not embarrassed. This is idiotic. I’m going to a different table and you are not to follow me.”

A vice grip clamps his hand before it could reach for his water. For being drunk, this stranger was surprisingly strong. “Wait! I’m sorry. I won’t buy you a drink. We can just stay here and chat before you go back onstage. Is that ok?” Takao suddenly looks surprise, his gaze focused somewhere behind Midorima. A realization seems to dawn over him and Midorima vaguely hopes it’s the realization that people are calling this drunk idiot back to do their stupid frat boy antics. Instead, he barely hears the whispered “I never introduced myself.” Takao’s attention snaps back to the person in front of his, eyes suddenly alert. 

“I’m Takao Kazunari! You can call me whatever you like. I go to L University-- do you know where that is? Anyways, I’m in the education program there. I’m pretty sure I want to do physical education or something like that, I don’t know I’m just really good with kids. I think that’s because I have a little sister. Do you have younger siblings? You actually seem like an on--”

“I go there too,” Midorima interrupts awkwardly. Sure, learning everything about a person in one breath was certainly a feat, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant to listen to. Thoughts of Takao getting everything out of the way and leaving him alone _do_ come to mind though. Takao’s mouth opens to speak again but Midorima is quicker. “I’m in the pre-med program. I have a younger sister, too. Speak more slowly.”

He still isn’t sure why he hasn’t gotten up and left. Perhaps it was the feeling that Takao would follow him wherever he went, pester him like a hungry dog until he gave in and bent to Takao’s will. If anything, it made the night pass by more quickly. Had he been left to his own devices, Midorima was sure he would have just stayed in the corner of the bar while he waited for his turn to be onstage again. This was minimally more exciting, though he still had no idea why on Earth Takao had chosen him to talk to instead of any number of people at the bar.

“You go there too? Small world! Though I guess that makes sense since this place is pretty close by. How did you get involved doing this?”

Before Midorima answers, the other pianist motions towards him. “If you’ll excuse me,” he says primly, graceful fingers wrapping around his glass of water.

“Can I buy you a drink when you’re done?” 

“We stop playing when the bar closes. I’m not interested in keeping the wait staff here longer than they have to and I’m leaving after this.”

“Can I come with you?”

Lips part as Midorima gives what seems like the thousandth sigh under his breath. “No, you may not come with me. I need to go onstage. Goodbye.” Takao just smiles jovially, waves a hand before going off and joining his friends.

Meeting Midorima after the bar closed and following him to wherever he would let him definitely came through Takao’s mind. He could tease him and laugh with him and then wow! They would be at his apartment. And he might have, had Ootsubo not reminded him that they had a practice tomorrow in preparation for one of their upcoming basketball games.

“That guy seemed cheerful,” Miyaji remarks sarcastically as they wait for the train back to campus, wind biting their noses and ears and any exposed skin. “Why the hell’d you follow him to his seat?”

Takao shrugs and finds that he can’t really give an answer. “Just felt like talking to him.”

The answer doesn’t please Miyaji, who gives a tsk with his tongue and only further questions Takao, too wound up in the idea of running into Midorima on campus to really care that he’s being interrogated by his upperclassmen.

Never has it been said that Takao didn’t like a few challenges.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a drabble I wrote back in the summer that I've always wanted to make better and expand upon, so here's my hesitant debut of a multi-chapter work. As of right now, I don't have a set date that I'll be updating, but I will try to do so at least once every two weeks. Since I don't know if Takao knows about Midorin's piano playing, this is my self-indulgent thought of what it would be like if piano playing was the only thing Takao knew about Midorima at first. Enjoy! (Ignore the nonsense title. It's a lyric from "Today" by Joshua Radin.)


End file.
